


Ruins

by quamquam20



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Glove Kink, Masturbation, No Touching, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Sex Pollen, Smut, not a botanist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-07-07 23:13:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19859587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quamquam20/pseuds/quamquam20
Summary: Called into the jungle by dreams, Rey stumbles across somebody she pretty much expected and a plant she definitely didn't.





	Ruins

It's not a path, exactly. More of a suggestion of space in the dense foliage. Rey pulls out her map, crisscrossed with thin, undulating lines. Above her, the brightening sky is barely visible through a heavy canopy of trees. She traces a jagged trail with her finger, commits the shape to memory, and returns the map to her bag.

  
Checking it is a nervous habit at this point, since she can already sense that she's heading in the right direction. Sometimes, like now, she'll feel an urge to veer off and wander through a gap in the trees she hadn't noticed before. The map is more for making sure she avoids the things she was cautioned about- ground that gives way under feet, silent and hungry animals, water that burns, areas with arm-like plants that grab and twist.

  
Visions of the dark ruins she's looking for began as quick flashes. For weeks, they've become more frequent and intense until now they're all she dreams about. Exhausting nights in the Resistance base, spent fitfully tossing in her bed while she crawls through the jungle and wakes up no closer to whatever magnetic thing is out there. She's so haunted by it that she doesn't care what it is or who put it there. She just wants it. Or wants it to stop.

  
Rey is accustomed to heat, of course. But the way the air lays heavily on everything is still new to her. She pauses to catch her breath.

  
And that's when she hears it. A snapped branch ahead of her and she knows with spine-tingling certainty that something is close. Silently, she ducks.

  
Those familiar broad shoulders move under black fabric as he navigates through the underbrush, following a crumbling stone wall. He stops moving, his back to her.

  
“Rey.” His voice sounds oddly muffled.

  
Her hand goes instantly to the lightsaber clipped to her belt. She's not entirely surprised to see him. As strong as the call has been for her, it's almost certainly just as strong for him.

  
He ignites his lightsaber as he spins to face her. She stands.

  
He's wearing lighter clothing than she's ever seen him in, still inky dark and enveloping but a looser weave that clings to his skin as he swings the lightsaber and slices through a moss-covered vine between them. There's a piece of fabric wrapped around his neck, covering his mouth and nose. She almost laughs at the idea that the jungle version of his helmet is a length of raw silk.

  
Suddenly, he freezes, holding out a hand like he's trying to calm her.

  
“Rey, what are you doing?” He sounds alarmed.

  
She snorts at the question, enjoying catching him off guard.

  
“I think you know.”

  
“No, I know why you're here,” he says quickly and turns off his lightsaber. “Did nobody tell you about those?” He gestures to a glossy yellow flower a stone's throw away from her. She can feel her stomach drop and she takes an automatic step away from the plant and points her lightsaber at it. Lacy purple tendrils sway in a humid breeze.

  
“What is it?” She can't keep the tremble out of her voice. She saw one a few minutes ago. Walked past it, noticed that it had a sticky sweet smell. It didn't seem dangerous.

  
“It's ok,” he says. “Just... find something to breathe through.”

  
Her legs are shaking as she yanks hard on the cloth tied around her and pushes it against her face.

  
“What does it do?” she says into the fabric.

  
Ben hesitates.

  
“Ben! What does it do?”

  
“You'll be fine,” he starts. “It passes in a few hours. A few of our troops accidentally found one during a... training exercise a week ago.”

  
Her head is swimming.

  
“Did it make them dizzy?” Rey asks. She lets her lightsaber retract. Her whole body pulses.

  
“Yes.”

  
The pulsing is gathering in her abdomen, like a gnawing hunger.

  
“What about hungry?” she asks.

  
Their eyes meet and she feels a jolt even lower, a deep throbbing that usually takes long minutes alone in her dark room to get to.

  
“Oh,” she says with sudden understanding. It's definitely too late. She lets her hand fall away from her mouth. She's breathtakingly, terrifyingly aroused, like she's floating in the last second before an orgasm hits, infuriatingly unable to get to it. Sweating, she rests her palm on a tree trunk next to her for support.

  
“You should go,” Rey tells him thickly. She wants to hide it from him so badly, to stop him from seeing her like this. Heat rises in her cheeks.

  
“Do you have any idea what's out here?” he asks her.

  
“You,” she says through gritted teeth.

  
He straightens.

  
She squeezes her legs together and the simple relief of pressure is intoxicating.

  
“You're the worst of it.”

  
“I wish I was,” he shoots back.

  
She wraps her legs tighter together and knows she's a mess.

  
He sighs with finality.

  
“I can't leave you like this, Rey. You can barely stand, let alone fight.” He regards her for a moment. “The ruins aren't far from here.”

  
“Oh, are we travel companions now?” There's more bite to it than she expected, especially since she's rocking a little back and forth so the seam in her pants can bump against her.

  
“Whatever's in there is strong enough to call me here, four systems away. We need to be careful.”

  
She imagines that his voice is a physical thing, slithering up her back and curling around her ears. She shivers.

  
“When you talk, it feels like you're touching me,” she tells him. She inclines her head and points to her neck, tracing a path that circles her ear to show him where it goes. “Is that part of it?”

  
He gives a section of the wide rock wall next to him a solid nudge with his boot. Nothing comes out or hisses, so he points to it.

  
“Just sit here. I'll be nearby.” He turns around and walks away to inspect the remains of a stone floor.

  
Rey makes her way over to it unsteadily. Her legs are buckling with every step and everything between them feels swollen and hot. She's glad to find that the wall foundation is made of large, grey blocks, cool and unmoving. Everything looks inviting. She stares at the footprints Ben left in the spongy moss that's slowly overtaking the chips of tree bark on the forest floor.

  
Unbidden, she imagines herself on her hands and knees in front of him as he sits, his feet kicked up, resting on her back. The heel of his boot digs in as he tells her what he's going to do to her.

  
She looks over at his back. She should be mortified that he's right there, but she doesn't want privacy at all now. She wants this mind-numbing ache to go away. She slips her hand into her pants, presses her fingers flat against herself, slick and sensitive like she's been doing this for hours. She drags fingertips over her lips, then rolls her index finger expertly over her hard clit.

  
The explosion is immediate, her whole body wound so tightly that the smallest touch sets it off. She claps her free hand over her mouth to stifle moans.

  
And for a moment, there's relief. Her head clears enough to feel embarrassed, to hope he didn't hear her. As soon as she has the thought, it's gone. She's back to wanting, and somehow it's more frantic than before.

  
“Ben?” she calls.

  
“Yeah.” He doesn't turn around but moves closer.

  
“It's not going away.” She's glad to hear herself sound frustrated instead of whimpering. Which she wants to do very badly.

  
“It won't stop for a while. No matter what you do.”

  
There's the touch from his voice again.

  
“What did they try?” she asks.

  
He pauses.

  
“I didn't hear the detailed report.”

  
She imagines a group of stormtroopers writhing together on the ground under the trees, their armor clanking together hollowly until they fumble out of it. She imagines Ben fisting a hand in her loose hair before he leans back to watch where he's slamming into her from behind.

  
“Does it makes you want things you normally wouldn't?” Rey asks. She's rubbing herself, hand still in her pants.

  
“You tell me.”

  
“Do you ever think about me?” she asks.

  
Another pause.

  
“Yes.”

  
“I want you to watch me,” she blurts out. She flushes but keeps going.

  
“Rey.” He says it like a warning, over his shoulder.

  
She pulls one foot up onto the wall for better leverage, and is almost instantly cramming two fingers roughly into herself. The fullness makes her groan. There's not much room in her tight clothes to thrust, but she curls her fingers inside of her. She's sure he can hear the wet sounds it's making.

  
“Can't stop. It feels so good,” she tells him and, even from a distance, she can see that he's breathing hard.

  
She's coming again, letting her head fall forward as she gasps and grinds into her hand. Each wave leaves her with a shudder. When it's over, he's staring and silent.

  
“As soon as I come, it starts again,” she explains. She can feel his eyes on her now, can see the shape of his hard cock through his clothes.

  
She tugs her pants down until they're around her ankles, wriggles out of her sweaty tunic. The metal clips of her belt clatter against the stone. The constant throbbing is stronger than ever, holding onto her.

  
“Touch me.” Even she can hear the begging in it. Her knees are spread wide.

  
He clenches his hands. The lower half of his face is still covered but his eyes are dark and drinking her in.

  
He removes a glove and tosses it to her. It's warm from his skin and too big when she puts it on. She watches him as she slides her hand over her body, cupping a breast and catching her nipple between her fingers, hissing as it's pinched between the leather. His bare hand disappears into his pants and his arm moves rhythmically. She aches for him to be in her.

  
Bringing her hand to her mouth, she spits onto the fingers of the glove. His groan is muffled, followed by an unintelligible string of swearing. She glides the glove between her legs, pressing solidly against her clit before tracing her opening. She parts her lips with her other hand so he can have a clear view when she pushes into herself with one finger. The extra thickness feels foreign and her body clenches down on it.

  
She pretends it's him with rough and erratic movements, pulling out slowly before forcing it back in. Wetness gathers at her knuckles. She works in a second finger, so full that a sobbing sound catches in her throat. She rubs her thumb over her clit, every pass bringing her closer and closer to the surge that's building. She's mesmerized by the way the black leather transforms her hand. It's exactly what she needs.

  
She props herself up on an elbow so she can snap her hips harder, driving herself onto her fingers in front of him. Every part of her is buzzing and she wants to tell him it's happening but when she opens her mouth, nothing comes out but quick panting. Her head tips back and she has to squeeze her eyes shut to stay afloat. Writhing, she kicks against the wall. Her mind is a disorienting mess of images and sounds until the last wave finally passes. Shaking, she carefully pulls her fingers out.

  
Ben's not done but he looks like he's almost there, speeding up as she glances over at him.

  
She takes off the glove and throws it back to him.

  
He pauses to catch it and put it on. His eyes are locked on hers while he pulls his cock out and fucks his hand where she can see. She knows he can feel how wet she made the glove. His long, full movements give way almost immediately to fast strokes that make him clench his jaw. He comes hard, unloading onto the forest floor with a shout that turns into a trailing groan.

  
Afterward, he stares at the glove where they're mixing together.

  
Rey pushes her sweaty hair back from her face. She feels limp and exhausted and content.

  
“It's gone,” she says, surprised.

  
He's pouring a bit of water out of a canteen and into his hand. He nods, rubbing his fingers together and flicking the water off to the side.

  
Rey gets dressed and returns her lightsaber to her belt. She focuses on being efficient so she doesn't have to think about how complicated this might make things. Especially since she feels normal now but still wants to touch him.

  
She carefully ties her wrap over her face, grateful for the sense of privacy it gives after being so exposed.

  
“That won't totally block it,” he tells her. “It just makes it less debilitating.”

  
She studies him. The way he's still shuddering occasionally.

  
“Are you...”

  
“It's fine.” It sounds a bit sharp, and she hesitates.

  
“Just go ahead of me,” he says, more gently. “I'll be right behind you.”

  
She collects the rest of her things, bending over slowly to pick up her bag. She takes longer than she needs to, adjusting the closure before she straightens. She can hear him exhale slowly through his teeth.

  
As she moves around him to take the lead, she lets her hips swing a little more than usual, the lightsaber hilt bumping against her as she walks.

  
“Rey.” he says pleadingly.

  
“It's not far,” she reminds him.

  
He swears under his breath.

  
Ahead of him, Rey smiles.


End file.
